The Game of Kings and Gentlemanly Virtue

Well, it's Summer--that's what the thermometer is saying anyway (more like screaming, at temperatures in the 90's and 100's)--so it's a corking time to reprint the article on THE GAME... 

Chess?  Marbles?  Horse-Shoes?  Perhaps volley ball?  No, the game of Kings is—now, if I told you right off the bat some of you would have already said, “Well, enough reading for the night, Jeeves, an early bed-time I think,” because the game of which I speak is Golf.  OK, it’s not necessarily a game for Kings, but it is a game (it’s not actually a sport) for gentlemen!  Bear with me here—about 4 years ago I had as much interest in golf as I do now in knitting a sweater, or being stung by a bee.  Why, you may be asking, do I stun your eyes with words like “golf?” Consider these gentlemanly virtues, brought about by the game of golf in a way that few other games can match:

1. Honor.  There are no referees in golf.  You can be honest, or not.  Only God and you know if you quietly kick the ball to a better position for your next shot.  The honorable man will play fair even under these circs, though he be sorely tempted to cheat (and this temptation will arise…)
2. Patience.  With yourself, with your mistakes and bad shots, with your teammate who is perhaps either too slow, or too good.
3. Humility.  Golf almost looks easy.  What could be simpler, after all, than whacking a ball with a stick into a hole in the ground?  Simple, however, does not mean easy.  Not easy:  hit a small ball 300 yards accurately, avoiding lakes, streams, sand pits, tall grass, geese, and other golfers, so as to be able to get it into the few-inch diameter hole in only 3 or 4 shots—or less.  As any one who has played one mere hole or two of golf will admit—this game will teach you humility, and honor—this is where the temptation to cheat comes in, because when you hit the ball everywhere but where you want it to go the temptation will arise, hideously, to covertly move the ball to where you can knock it into the hole in at least under 12 shots.  You were upset when at the 5^th shot you still weren’t near the hole, but now at 10, you are about to kill one of those geese with your 3-wood. 
4. Self-control.  After you successfully avoid taking out a few geese, you will be tempted (and this is only 10 or 15 minutes in, perhaps) to twist every club, including and perhaps especially, the putter, into a masterpiece of bent-metal modern art.  See #’s 2 and 3. 
5. Concentration.  The amount of concentration it takes to hit a golf ball is staggering.  When people are watching this can cause the beginner to smack the ball so far that he can’t see it, because he just clipped the ball, and it rolled an inch in front of him.  Yeah, that counts as one stroke—only 2 or 3 left, and you're over the allotted number.  Concentrate.  Repeat #’s 2-4 if necessary.
6. Nature.  Right-ho, that is not a virtue.  I’m pleased you’re still with us here at number 6.  Golf is usually played amongst beautiful scenery.  The course is serene, (except for the honking of fleeing geese and the sound of breaking metal), there are ponds, trees, the sound of wind rustling the leaves, the sun, the fresh air.  If you are at a links course, that means you are also by the sea-side, with wonderful, salty ocean air.  It is a great place to spend time, even apart from golf, and during the game it helps relax one between fits of violent lunacy.  If you are not impeded by time or nature, avoid the golf cart—golf should be played, when possible, by walking from one place to the next, enjoying the scenery, the camaraderie, the exercise, the knowledge that your next shot will be perfect.
7. Obsession.  Toward the end, when you realize that you have done a few things well, many not, but have remained an honorable gentleman, this thought may occur to you:  “I know I can hit the ball straighter and more accurately—I was just standing/swinging/aiming/taking the wind direction into account all wrong.  Do we have to leave?  Just one more game…

A final note.  A few of you may be desirous of quoting Mark Twain at this point:  “Golf is a good walk spoiled.” I, too, used to quote Twain in this regard, until I realized he is totally wrong.  If golf were a walk, it would indeed be “a good walk spoiled.”  But golf is not a walk—it contains walking, but golf is a game, not a walk.  They are separate things entirely, and both have their place.  There is nothing like a good walk.  But for building gentlemanly virtue and character, golf is a king amongst other games.  

Well-Dressed Entertainment

Popping off to the Well-Dressed Gentleman website, you'll notice a new addition on the top right corner of the page:  Gentlemanly music and books!  Listen to one, or all; while you're on the ol' gents' website, or while you're tromping off to the far reaches of the internet (as long as the Well-Dressed site remains on, the music or books will keep on playing, whatever other tabs or pages you open).  I'll add to the playlist periodically, and if you have any ideas, let me know (of course, submission of ideas may or may not lead to inclusion in the playlist; I'm pretty persnickety, if persnickety is the word I want, when it comes to the content on my website). 

Cheerio!

Pajamas Yes, Blue Jeans not so much

If you often find yourself sitting about at home in your pajamas, chances are that now and again someone comes to the door.  This happens to me more than it used to, since I spend so much time here perusing the internet for job openings.  I mean to say, one gets out of bed, eventually, and then one obtains the necessary black liquid and plunges into the electronic world of job applications.  It used to be that one would go to an actual store or business and fill out a paper application or deliver a paper resume.  Not so anymore!  Sure, for part-time jobs, that's still often the case; but this isn't the norm anymore for full-time positions.  In a way, this is good--applying online is much easier than printing out resumes and carrying them hither and yon.  Now, a click or two of the button sends the cover letter and resume instantly.  And yet, it lacks personal presence.  But there it is.

So, there you are in your pajamas--and I should add that what I am about to say applies to gentlemen only--and someone knocks at the door, or perhaps the mail has arrived, or you have to sign for a package.  Your first instinct may be to run for the closet and change.  Well, forget that.  The truth of the matter is that it's been the custom for many a decade that a gentleman in pajamas--and preferably robe and slippers (the complete bed-time ensemble)--can thus receive visitors of equal (friends, family) or lesser status (tradesmen, postal workers, neighbors, etc).  If you're like me, you're probably reading this and thinking "Have I been mysteriously transferred to a perfect world?"  Ha-ha!  No.  But it's one of those things that make life grand! 


Blue jeans are not, however, totally unrelated to the above.  While I've been sitting at home without a full-time paid position (I'm certainly not jobless--I have more to do now I think than I did with a job!--looking for work, keeping up the house, writing to people, sleeping and so on), I've had much less chance to dress up in any way remotely resembling Beau Brummel:

Chance to wear suit and Fedora, nil;
Chance to wear blazer and dress pants, nil;
Chance to wear pajamas, blue jeans and the like, 99%


Now, again, the pajamas I like.  You can really dress up with pajamas, a nice robe and a pair of slippers and look every bit the gent.  But the rest of the time--well, it's blue jeans or similar. 


Some of you may be thinking, "Why not dress up anyway?"  Well, for a few reasons, I simply can't wear a suit at home:

1)  Why put wear and tear on the suits, shirts, etc, when the only one who will see me is mostly me?
2)  There's a great deal of housework to do, and the finery will simply end up covered in dirt, dish water, trash, you name it.


But--I grow weary of donning blue jeans and t-shirts, and this has led me to a take a slightly new course.  Well, one other thing has as well, but I'll get to that.  The new course is this:  Except for working in the yard or home fixing and painting projects, no more jeans.  No, instead, I'm going to don the khaki or blue dress pants, and polo shirts (since the weather's turned warm).  Good, gentlemanly causal wear.  If they do get dirty, and they will, it's not as much of an issue as a wounded suit or tie.  Besides, such pants and shirts can be pretty inexpensive if they need to be replaced.  A Fedora or English Driving Cap isn't out of place with such an ensemble, either. And  I'll look more the gent than just sitting about in jeans.  Not that blue jeans are a sartorial faux pas.  They have their place; I'm just tired of the very casual look day in, day out. 

So, what's the other reason?  I know I've lamented it before, but since I've begun writing here it's become still worse:  Men dressing like slobs.  Walk out the door almost anywhere and you will see herds of lads hurling themselves about in shorts, flip flops, a t-shirt and a baseball hat.  That's great for the beach.  It's not great for going most anywhere else.  For example, this past Sunday was Easter Sunday.  Perhaps some of you are Christians and were at Easter services.  I'm a Catholic myself, and was at Mass of course, as every Sunday, on Easter.  And what did I see?  I saw three men dressed as they should be--myself, one 80 year old guy, and one other fellow about my age.  The rest of the men you would think just strolled in from a long and somewhat difficult day at the seaside; a bunch of disheveled, severely under-dressed blokes.

I'm pretty sure that anyone reading this, religious or not, would agree that if one does go to a religious service of some sort that due respect should be shown.  Of course, these same men would wear this outfit for most any event.  If they could meet the Queen of England, and be admitted in such an outfit as described above, they would do it.  Nothing in life, apparently, has any gravity for them, including God.

The whole image these lads convey isn't one that says "I take life pretty easy" but "I really take nothing seriously, I have no respect for myself or others; I dress however I want with no regard for anyone but myself.  And I'm lazy.  I just can't be bothered putting actual clothes on."  The way one dresses really does say a lot about a person; not everything, to be sure, but it does provide some dim intimation, at the very least.  For example, put a well-dressed gentleman together with a slob and you will see in the gent's face that it is only manly, gentlemanly restraint which prevents him from whacking the slob in the shins with his walking stick or umbrella.

In a word, I am absolutely sick of this culture of wimpy men, lazy men, feminized men, un-cultured men.  And that's the other reason for my eschewing blue jeans except for very specific applications--that is, using them for their original purpose only, which was physical labor.  I think the under-dressing problem has gotten so bad that there really needs to be a huge surge of gentlemen dressing and acting like gentlemen, and even dressing a bit better than they normally would at home or at the zoo and what-not.  Wear some nice pants, a good shirt, and a decent, non-baseball hat, that's my plan!

Toodle-pip, gentlemen!

Where Have You Been...

Where have I been, indeed.  If this blog has any followers left, may I say that you are among the most loyal, and dare I say fanatical, fans in the whole sartorial world.

In fact, I've been here.  I mean, not staring at a blank page thinking of things of which to write, but here, in the world, by the computer or with newspaper in hand, looking for a job.  Having lost my job of 10 years due to lay-offs, I have been spending most of my time trying to find work, not lose our house, figure out how to pay bills, and so on.  And, after 2 years of looking, not one blasted offer of work.  I did, I am happy to report, hear good things from a variety of popular newspapers here in the USA, saying that my writing is wonderful, but either not the proper fit for them, or that they don't have a budget for any new special columnists anytime in the next century due to our collapsing economy.  Yes, collapsing it seems.  When over 500 people apply for one janitorial job in one small town (not here), something is amiss.  Indeed, most of the jobs I've applied for have over 300 applicants. A lot of people have just quit looking for work. 


So, that's what I've been up to.  I've not forgotten the Well-Dressed Gentleman website, and it will continue.  Next, I suppose I'll write a bit about pajama culture, because that's my morning-time job searching outfit of choice--on with slippers and robe (though it's getting warmer now), obtain the black gold (coffee), and get to the work of looking for paying work. 


So, that article is upcoming.  I have another on the front burner as well.  and if any of you are in a position hire someone for, well, almost anything, or have some good contacts, send me an offer of employment.  Or at least a check...I'm out of gin and the last time a martini and I met was, oh, months ago now.


Pip-pip; future articles en route...

Butter, Bacon, Bourbon...and Billionaires

Billionaires Bacon--bacon with brown sugar sprinkled on it and then cooked in the oven--is one of the most...oh bother, is it even necessary to describe it?  It's bacon, bacon  coated with brown sugar for goodness sakes, it needs no further description.  But there is one thing that is, perhaps, even better:  Buttered Billionaire's Bacon Bourbon.  Buttered Bourbon you may have imbibed, Billionaire's Bacon you may have munched on, but the combination of the two renders a hot drink that will make you wish it would stay winter for a lot longer.


First, making bacon bourbon.  Easy.  Cook some bacon.  Save about 1-2 ounces of the bacon fat, then put it and a 750 ml bottle of bourbon into a glass jar.  Let it sit for several hours/overnight.  Then put it in the freezer for several more hours, or over another night (depends how cold your freezer is); the fat will solidify, and the alcohol just gets cold without freezing.  Then you can strain the bourbon back into the original bottle through cheesecloth, or lacking that, a coffee filter (don't forget to put your straining device into a funnel, or you'll have bourbon running all over the kitchen floor).  You could also double strain the bourbon, straining it into another glass jar and then straining it into the original bottle.  I would probably suggest the double straining method for extra purity.

OK, so, you've got bacon bourbon!  Now, to the recipe.  I don't know if anyone else has invented this--I imagine someone has; either way, I'm calling it...


Hot Buttered Billionaire's Bacon Bourbon

Ingredients:

2 ounces of bacon bourbon
5 ounces of hot water
1 ounce of brown sugar syrup (recipe follows)
small bit of butter (1/3 of a tablespoon perhaps)

Heat up 5 ounces of water to near boiling.  About 1 min. 40 sec in microwave.
Pour bourbon into a drinking vessel.
Pour hot water into bourbon.
Pour 1 ounce of brown sugar syrup into the mixture and stir a bit.
Put in the butter and let it melt.
Drink slowly on a cold night.

Its a simple recipe, but you will be amazed at how good it is.  Now, you may be thinking, as I did at first, that 5 ounces of water is a lot for that little bit of bourbon.  But the genius to this recipe (the base recipe is not mine of course, I just added the idea of baconizing it) is the brown sugar syrup--the depth and taste of the syrup mixes with the water and perfectly compliments the bourbon, boosting the depth of what would otherwise be watery bourbon.

Brown Sugar Syrup

Ingredients:

1 cup light brown sugar
1 cup sugar
1/4 cup light corn syrup
2 cups water
3 Tbs. unsalted butter

In a sauce pan, bring both sugars, corn syrup, and water to a boil. Reduce the heat and simmer vigorously until thickened to a syrupy consistency, 10 to 15 minutes. 

Store it in the fridge.  Should be good for around 6 weeks (around the refrigerated life of butter, though I hear from some butter can go longer).